White Label
by Jedi Trace
Summary: Pre AOTC humor vignette. Anakin, Barriss, ObiWan, Luminara, OC's.


** A/N: ** This was written for a humor challenge at another site: Write a vignette in which Anakin Skywalker finds a lost lightsaber. Must contain the words: lackey, infiltrate, dither, exacerbate, nadir. I have never written Anakin Skywalker before, but this plot bunny was just too fun. (And probably had something to do with the Barriss Offee costume I've been making, LOL!)

**Disclaimer: ** George Lucas owns everything Star Wars.

* * *

**White-label**

Anakin groaned, clutching his head. There was a vibroblade stuck in his brain. Had to be. Nothing else could possibly account for the throbbing in his skull. Peeling fuzzy eyes open, he spotted the true culprit – an empty bottle of white-label Whyren's Reserve.

_Oh - right._ Now he remembered, and groaned again.

It had started innocently enough. He and three other padawans had simply been engaging in a brief game of dejarik after a particularly grueling sparring session with Master Yoda, when they'd been caught by Master Windu. The fact that they were supposed to have been in a class detailing the contents of new standard-issue nutrient packs only exacerbated the situation.

Accused of dithering and squandering valuable time, the four of them had been promptly assigned to refresher-cleaning duty.

Anakin couldn't remember whose idea it had been to congregate afterwards in a deserted classroom in the north tower or where Tymm, a Corellian padawan, had acquired the liquor; but the four of them had apparently managed to consume the entire bottle while laughing and trading complaints about their masters. And singing. _Who had started the singing?_ Oh right – he had.

Rising unsteadily to his feet, he wobbled his way across the room to gather his cloak and lightsaber. The cloak was crumpled in a heap next to Tymm, who was sprawled face-down in a corner, but his lightsaber was nowhere to be seen.

Anakin squinted in the dim morning light and scanned the floor around his unconscious comrades. Noting a glint of silver, he stepped over one of Cade Pallan's lekku and spotted the hilt of his lightsaber. Or one half of it, at least.

The other half was hopelessly tangled in a mane of black hair.

Hair that was attached to Barriss Offee's head.

Anakin knelt beside her, catching himself with one hand as he swayed. "Barriss," he shook her lightly on the shoulder. "_Barriss!_"

The Healer-in-training grunted, opening blood-shot eyes. Anakin helped her to a sitting position and sat back on his heels as she rubbed shaking hands over her tattooed cheeks. Normally calm, proper, and composed, Barriss looked around, appalled, no doubt thinking this to be the nadir of young life.

"Sorry," Anakin started, "but...my lightsaber." He motioned awkwardly toward her head, "It's in your hair."

"What?" noticing the uncomfortable weight, she reached up and felt Anakin's lightsaber dangling beside her right ear.

Fumbling with uncooperative fingers, she attempted to detangle it, "How did-"

_tug_

"your lightsaber-"

_wince_

"get in – Ow! – my hair?"

They looked at each other, and froze. Neither could remember the exact details of the evening, but they were suddenly and immensely relieved that they were both fully clothed.

Accepting the hastily proffered saber, Anakin stood quickly, "Come on. We've got to get out of here."

Waking the other two, who were equally offended by the new day, the four of them stumbled down the corridor with all the grace of Banthas infiltrating a street market. Reaching a crossway, Tymm and Cade veered off toward their quarters as Barriss and Anakin stepped into a turbo lift.

Barriss leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and clutching her protesting stomach, "My master is going to kill me. I'll be sent to the Agri Corps or demoted to a common lackey at Coruscant Med."

"That's all right," Anakin commiserated. "You can come visit me when I'm shipped back to Tatooine to become a moisture farmer."

The lift door opened. Barriss stepped out and swore uncharacteristically at the sight of her master walking toward the lift.

"Quick," Anakin whispered behind her, "pretend to faint."

"Wha-?"

"Just do it!" he hissed.

Falling backwards, Barriss slid gracefully to the floor. Any other time, Anakin would have considered himself honor-bound to pick her up, but his rubbery legs would have no part of that.

He leaned over Barriss just as Master Luminara rounded the corner and frowned, "Barriss! Anakin! What is the meaning of this?"

"Master Luminara!" Anakin feinted suprise. "I'm so glad to see you. We went out for morning exercises and I think she might have eaten something bad at breakfast. I was just taking her to the medical ward."

Luminara eyed them skeptically, "The medical ward is the other way, Anakin. And you look terrible."

Sensing trouble, Barriss moaned dramatically from the floor.

"In fact, if it's possible, the two of you look even worse than you did after that little escapade in the river on Ansion. Here," Luminara slipped an arm under each of their shoulders and pulled them to their feet. "I'll help you _both_ to the medical ward."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Hours later, feeling almost human again after receiving an anti-emetic hypospray in the medical ward, Anakin entered his quarters to find Master Obi-Wan waiting for him.

"Feeling better, Anakin?"

Anakin startled, "Yes, Master."

"Glad to hear it," Obi-Wan grinned, producing the incriminating empty bottle of Whyren's Reserve from behind his back.

Anakin paled, wondering silently if his position in Watto's shop was still open.

Obi-Wan, however, clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly, suppressing a laugh, "But next time, get the black-label bottle. The side effects aren't nearly as bad."

"Yes, Master," Anakin ventured a relieved smile.

Obi-Wan walked to the doorway and paused. "Oh, and padawan," he turned, looking pointedly at Anakin's belt. "Lose something?"

Anakin looked down at his waist, and sighed. His lightsaber was missing. Again.


End file.
